Post by Niccolo Montefiore on Sept 18, 2014 20:25:54 GMT -5
The first day in Duefuemi came and went. The tour had been completed and still many questions remained. Perhaps the more accurate statement was that questions merely spawned more questions rather than answers. What would his true mark be? What role would his sisters have? Did his sisters need to have a role? No doubt, Elena had brought up his sister's for a reason. What of his father? Would his father recover? If he did, would the mantle of responsibility pass back to his father? That was, in truth, Niccolo's hope.
Yet, that was not how everyone spoke with him. That was not how everyone looked at him. That was not how everyone treated him. The man was mostly oblivious to such things, but it was becoming patently clear to his sisters and, indeed, the servants of the family that Niccolo Montefiore was, essentially, the Duke of Seravino. This was not a temporary position. This was not something that would simply go away in hopes that he could simply resume living his life.
Niccolo was choosing not to dwell on such matters.
Instead, he focused on the flowers that he had delivered to Elena that morning. Niccolo had been fortunate to find some purple hyacinths that were still blooming, and had them set in a vase very similar to the one that he had discovered in Nacimiento. Along with the flowers had come a note of invitation for Elena to join him for a morning ride. Was it spontaneous? Absolutely, but that was life with Niccolo Montefiore. Sometimes it was best to simply throw the best laid plans out the window.
Should she accept the invitation, she would find him with a pair of horses freshly groomed and prepared for the ride. While the beasts were beautiful examples of their species, what no doubt caught her attention even more was the mists that seemed to swirl about the peak upon which Niccolo's home sat. The ephemeral clouds seemed to add an air of quiet mystery, making one wonder what truly laid beyond the gates.
Elena Sandoval
Yet, that was not how everyone spoke with him. That was not how everyone looked at him. That was not how everyone treated him. The man was mostly oblivious to such things, but it was becoming patently clear to his sisters and, indeed, the servants of the family that Niccolo Montefiore was, essentially, the Duke of Seravino. This was not a temporary position. This was not something that would simply go away in hopes that he could simply resume living his life.
Niccolo was choosing not to dwell on such matters.
Instead, he focused on the flowers that he had delivered to Elena that morning. Niccolo had been fortunate to find some purple hyacinths that were still blooming, and had them set in a vase very similar to the one that he had discovered in Nacimiento. Along with the flowers had come a note of invitation for Elena to join him for a morning ride. Was it spontaneous? Absolutely, but that was life with Niccolo Montefiore. Sometimes it was best to simply throw the best laid plans out the window.
Should she accept the invitation, she would find him with a pair of horses freshly groomed and prepared for the ride. While the beasts were beautiful examples of their species, what no doubt caught her attention even more was the mists that seemed to swirl about the peak upon which Niccolo's home sat. The ephemeral clouds seemed to add an air of quiet mystery, making one wonder what truly laid beyond the gates.
Elena Sandoval